


from loss to love

by sugdensquad



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugdensquad/pseuds/sugdensquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Birthday Prompt on tumblr - Robert wakes early on his thirtieth birthday to visit his mother's grave and tell her about the changes in his life and the love that he's found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from loss to love

**Author's Note:**

> *DISCLAIMER* Slight mentions of Aaron's struggle to deal with the aftermath of the verdict, including nightmares, just in case anyone found that triggering.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated, as are all your lovely messages on tumblr! Happy reading :)

He breathed a sigh into the dusky room, April’s dawn light struggling above the horizon. Robert twisted to reach for his phone, hiding the bright screen under the duvet to check the time. 04:07. No wonder his bones felt like they were made of cement. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and carefully turned back round to face the sleeping man lying curled up next to him. Aaron’s face was softer than usual, the tension in his forehead and jaw absent as he dreamed, and the corners of his mouth curved ever-so-slightly into a smile.

Robert felt a rush of warmth for him and reached out to brush a finger against Aaron’s hairline, removing a stray curl which was still damp from the shower he’d had the night before. He was desperate to kiss him, to pull him close against his chest, but he’d been sleeping so little since the court case that it would have been cruel to risk waking him when he was finally at peace.

Robert had hoped, after the verdict, that Aaron would begin to relax, but he shouldn’t have been so naive. He’d said it himself: “What about all those memories? Justice doesn’t mean that they all just go away.” And it was true. The memories hadn’t disappeared. The pain was still there, ever-present, a shadow Aaron couldn’t seem to shake. And Robert hadn’t been able to do anything, feeling as useless as he had done when Aaron had first confided in him, able to offer nothing which might actually help. The only thing he could give was himself, completely and unconditionally, and sometimes, for Aaron it seemed, that was more than enough.

This morning, however, Robert couldn’t quite pull through in the way he’d been doing up until now. Usually, when Aaron woke up, Robert would be right next to him, a soothing hand against his back, a murmured voice in his ear drawing him slowly out of whatever nightmare had been plaguing him. But today was different. Today was Robert’s birthday.

His jeans were in a crumpled heap on the floor and he gently eased himself off the bed and pulled them on, his shoulders aching from having been lying with Aaron in his arms most of the night. He didn’t mind. It was a good ache, an important ache. It reminded him that he wasn’t all bad, and he needed that, today more than ever.

The pub was ghostly silent as he crept downstairs and unlocked the back door, yanking on his boots and lacing them up once he was outside. Despite it being April, there was a brittle wind chasing down the street and he desperately wished he’d taken his jacket before leaving. He crossed his arms across his chest and headed down towards the church… towards the graveyard.

He went most years, apart from when he hadn’t been living in the village. A sort of tradition, comforting in some ways, morbid in others. But this year was important. He was thirty now, a milestone he should have marked with both his parents there by his side. But he was used to such events passing without much celebration. His 18th, his 21st… the first absent his mother, the second absent both of them. At that point, bitter about all he’d lost and jealous of what everyone else still had, he’d convinced himself that such birthdays were insignificant, and that even if his parents had been there, they likely would have spent the day arguing or being disappointed in him. Now, having finally got his life back on track, finally being the sort of man he thought they could be proud of, he felt a pang of loss which he hadn’t experienced in a long time, re-opening long forgotten wounds.

A faint mist hung low across the headstones, lichen clinging to the older ones like mould. He weaved between them, his skin covered in goosebumps which had nothing to do with the cold, and headed straight for his mum’s grave. The flowers were beginning to wrinkle at the edges and he picked off a petal as he sat down, twirling it between his thumb and index finger before letting it fall onto the dewy grass.

 

WIFE OF JACK  
AND DEVOTED MOTHER OF  
ROBERT, ANDY AND VICTORIA

It was the only time he’d ever been put before his brother and sister, and he gave a half-smile, relishing the cruel twist of fate which allowed him this luxury only at his mother’s expense. It was perhaps the only gift his father had ever given him - the opportunity to be first in her affections, carved forevermore into the cold, hard stone.

He placed a hand against her name, feeling nothing but a hollowness he’d never managed to get rid of, not since she’d died. It was a fixture, as familiar to him as his heartbeat, a spectre he doubted would ever leave him.

“Not gonna wish me a happy birthday, then?” he joked, voice trembling as a sharp wind lanced his skin. He could almost hear her laughter carried on the wind and it made him shudder, the cold seeping further into his bones.

He could just about remember his birthdays as a kid. They’d been small, few presents, a homemade birthday cake which was slapdash and lopsided, but for one day a year, it had been all about _him_. And encompassed in those memories, the jewels in a treasure trove of shit, was his mum, beaming at him fondly. She used to squeeze his shoulder when he sat down at the kitchen table to read his cards, small, rough hands tightening through the soft fabric of his pyjama top. She would kiss the top of his head, murmur a “happy birthday, love” and then go to make his breakfast.

He felt his heart give a little, skin feeling taut across his chest, too tight to breathe properly. He wondered what she would say to him now, whether she would still have those soft eyes if she knew about everything he’d done, how much he’d put their family through.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he whispered, refusing to cry, refusing to let himself slip any further. He gulped down the hard lump in his throat, breathing harshly through his nose until his pulse steadied. It wouldn’t make any difference, now. What good would apologising to a grave do? She couldn’t hear him, couldn’t forgive him. She was dead, and maybe that was a good thing, all things considered.

But he hadn’t come here to wallow. He’d known for a few days now that he’d come here, visit her, and tell her about what he’d done right. He’d avoided coming before now, when he’d been at his most vindictive, because the weight of her disappointment, no matter that it was just a figment of his imagination, would likely have crippled him.

This time, though, he could actually show her he’d changed. He’d made a conscious effort to do better, be better, and not even for himself. For someone else, someone who truly deserved it.

“You know, this’ll be the first birthday I’ve looked forward to in ages,” he began, now leaning in a little closer in case she couldn’t hear him. It was stupid, he knew that, but it helped all the same.

“I always thought I’d be happiest once I had money, that the flash presents were what I wanted - I bet you remember me telling you about the car Chrissie got me. Didn’t think I could get anything better than that.”

He sighed, remembering that day as well as he remembered every day which had included Aaron - vividly. He’d been hard back then, all sharp edges and gritted teeth and that glare which had made Robert light-headed. And Robert had softened him, opened him up only to toy with his heart and then dropped him. He’d very nearly destroyed the only person who had truly understood him, accepted him despite everything, and no matter what good he did from now on, it would never be enough. He would carry that guilt with him forever.

“I’ve met someone. Well, I’ve already told you about him, actually… Aaron? Yeah, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up back together. It’s different now, though. No more lying, no more hiding. He’s had such a hard time and… I think you’d be proud of me, Mum, because I’ve done everything right this time. I’ve really tried.”

He had to stop again because another wave of tears threatened. He rode it out just like the others, chin dipped towards his chest, eyes closed until he felt it recede. It didn’t take as long this time, so progress, at least.

“And you know how great he is, I’ve told you enough times,” he continued, his mouth aching to smile. “Sometimes he gets this look, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like he can’t see anything else but me, doesn’t want to.” His lips break into a grin. It’s always the same with Aaron. He’s never been ruined by someone so completely, or so willingly.

“Anyway, I just thought I should let you know that I’m doing better than the last time we spoke. And you don’t have to worry now, because as long as I’ve got him, I’ll be fine. I’m happy, strange as that sounds, and for some reason, I make him happy, too. Turns out your son isn’t a complete failure after all.” It was meant as a joke, but there was a part of him being serious. He’d never been proud of anything he’d achieved before, but every time he made Aaron smile, it was like someone giving him a pat on the back for a job well done. Sometimes he could even pretend it was his dad.

He brushed a blade of grass from his boot, knowing there was probably much more to be said but not having the energy to find the words. God, he was tired. He’d spent every night this week just lying awake, watching Aaron tossing and turning, breaking into sweats in the middle of the night, mouth twisted into a grimace. He would lean across, wrapping an arm tightly around his middle, and press his lips lightly to the back of his neck until he felt his body relax again. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. At those points, Robert would either wake him from the dream to cradle him against his chest, or, if it was really bad, he’d go and wake Chas. Aaron would always apologise, face pale, hands shaking, and Robert would just kiss his forehead, his cheeks, cupping his face and whispering that it wasn’t his fault.

He was glad, though, that Aaron had managed to sleep through this time around, and he felt a pang of longing, the desperation to return to him strong.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Aaron’s voice was so faint and the timing so coincidental that Robert was sure he’d imagined it. But then there he was, hoodie zipped all the way up and Robert’s leather jacket in his hands. He passed it over and Robert shrugged it on, giving Aaron a grateful smile.

“How did you know?” he asked, watching his boyfriend lower himself down onto the grass next to him.

Aaron wet his lower lip and shrugged. “You mentioned your mum yesterday, first time in a long while, and you were pretty distant all day. When you weren’t there this morning, I figured you might have come to see her…” he trailed off, realising Robert was staring at him intently.

“What?”

Robert sniffed, hard. “Nothing. Just didn’t realise you were paying that close attention.”

“I’m always paying attention. To you, at any rate.”

He said nothing, just reached across and laced their fingers together. Aaron's hands were warm and he hissed when he felt how cold Robert was.

“How long have you been out here?”

Robert checked his watch. “Twenty minutes or so. I just wanted to tell her… you know, how I was doing. And about you.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, turning back to the gravestone. “She would have liked you. Dad as well, probably. He always liked people who were loyal, stuck to their guns.”

“And that’s me, is it?” Aaron asked softly, shuffling forwards and resting his chin against Robert’s shoulder.

“Definitely.”

“And what about your mum? What would she have liked about me?”

He smiled now, because his mum would have adored Aaron. He was everything she would have wanted for her son.

“Well, you don’t take any of my shit, so she would have appreciated that, because she was always a soft touch. And you have a big heart, bigger than anyone I’ve ever met, like hers.”

Aaron was smiling now as well, more subtle than Robert’s but there all the same. His hand twitched against Robert’s, fingers curling tighter as he flicked his eyes towards the grave.

“And I’m sure she’d be happy knowing someone loves her son as much as I do.”

Robert didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just focused his gaze on the crisp rose petals fluttering in the breeze. He hadn’t said it, he couldn’t have. It had been so long since he’d said it…

“Robert?”

He turned his head and gave Aaron a pleading look. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You know me better than that,” Aaron responded almost immediately, and the words were an echo of a different time, a different man, one he had no intention of ever becoming again.

Robert leaned closer, aware that this wasn’t exactly the best place to be doing this, but something felt strangely right about it, as though his mum was giving him her blessing. He drew in Aaron’s lips with his own, warm and soft, before resting his other hand against Aaron’s cheek.

“I love you, too,” he said, and he’d never meant it more.

Aaron squeezed his hand, a silent thank you, and then got to his feet. “You need me to give you a minute alone?”

Robert shook his head, hauling himself upright as well. “I’ve said all I needed to. Just thought I should let her know I’m all right now.”

Their hands found each other again, and they began to walk back towards the Woolpack, a comfortable silence descending around them. It was lighter now, morning having crept up on him without realising, and the birds were calling out across the trees, another sign of Spring approaching. As they reached the back door, Robert felt himself being pulled forwards and a chaste kiss was planted against his lips.

“What was that for?” he asked as Aaron stepped inside the darkened hallway, slipping off his coat. He gave Robert a shy smile, blue eyes bright against the tepid sunshine which had just broken through the clouds.

“It’s your birthday, innit? Just call it one of your presents.”

“One of them? You’ve got me something else?” Robert asked, his chest easing now that he was back in the warmth, back with Aaron.

“Well, if you can manage to get upstairs, old man, I might give you the rest.”

He didn’t wait to be told twice, following Aaron up the stairs, now certain this was the best birthday he had ever had.


End file.
